


Stuck In The Middle

by sweetbutterbliss



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Bromance, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbutterbliss/pseuds/sweetbutterbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the Fischer job, Yusuf had to admit that he wasn't surprised to visit Eames flat in Mombasa and find Arthur's rumpled head and bare feet sticking out from under Eames' comforter.  The man had squinted at him and then covered his head again with the blanket, grumbling something about jet lag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck In The Middle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ryn11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryn11/gifts).



> beta'd by [ Heather ](http://theshorteststack.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This is a gift for [ Ryn. ](http://yousmileiclick.tumblr.com/) She made a request and I did my best to indulge her. Hopefully it's what she wanted. *boob squish*

Following the Fischer job, Yusuf had to admit that he wasn't surprised to visit Eames flat in Mombasa and find Arthur's rumpled head and bare feet sticking out from under Eames' comforter. The man had squinted at him and then covered his head again with the blanket, grumbling something about jet lag.

He also hadn't been surprised at Eames' smug smirk as he sipped his cup of tea. Yusuf wasn't blind; he'd seen the two idiots dance around each other for years, and after everyone nearly dying (which really wasn't his fault, people couldn't blame _him_ because Cobb was crazy) in Fischer's head, of course they'd end up having thank-God-we're-alive sex.

So, no, he hadn't been surprised.

What he _had_ been surprised by though, was the fact that Arthur had stuck around, and after a few uncomfortable dinners where Arthur glared at him and muttered vague threats of poisoning under his breath, he actually seemed to warm up to Yusuf. Yusuf was chuffed; it was always good to have the best point man in the business on your good side.

Arthur was also fascinated with Yusuf's shop. He'd spend hours there, asking questions and listening, fascinated as Yusuf broke down the compounds and how they could react to each other. Which was nice, since Eames usually listened for all of five seconds then loudly changed the subject, ignoring Yusuf's put upon huffs.

Arthur even let Yusuf test some compounds on him, although they both agreed it was best not to tell Eames about that. It was nice to have someone to chat with, someone who didn't complain about the smell of his cats or try and con money out of him. And for a gay man, Arthur was a surprisingly huge fount of knowledge regarding women. He listened to Yusuf's ever increasingly pathetic women woes and offered sound advice. He even played wing man a few times when Eames was on a job.

***

"So it's Eames' birthday soon." Arthur was leaning on the counter, his chin in his hand, idly spinning a petri dish across the wood.

"Is it?" Yusuf eyeballed the powder he was weighing on his scale. He knew it must be coming up. Yusuf and Eames usually just got belligerently drunk and passed out on one or the other's couch or living room floor. That was how they celebrated things. Although the last few years, the hangovers had been getting increasingly harder to deal with. Even with Yusuf's super secret hangover cure, which smelled like old eggs, and tasted even worse.

"I want to get him something good. It's our first occasion together as a couple."

"Are you a couple now?" Yusuf put down his scoop and looked at Arthur.

"No, Yusuf. I'm actually homeless and have been living in Mombasa for the past three months sleeping on Eames couch because I have nowhere else to go."

"No one likes a sarcastic person, Arthur." Yusuf squinted.

"Guess that's why you don't have any friends." Arthur mumbled with a smirk.

"You're my friend. What does that say about you?" Yusuf picked the scoop back up, pointing it at the other man.

"Nothing good, I'm sure." Arthur laughed.

Yusuf was secretly delighted that Arthur didn't refute his friend claims. He'd never admit to any such thing because he is a bearded manly man, thank you very much. But he couldn't help the smile that crossed his face as he concentrated on packaging up the powder into little plastic baggies. He handed Arthur a sheet of round price stickers and passed the bags to him as finished each one. They worked in silence for a moment, Yusuf humming contentedly.

"So...what do you think?" Arthur broke the silence.

"About what?"

"About where they buried Jimmy Hoffa." Arthur huffed loudly. "Keep up, old man. About Eames' birthday. What should I get him?"

"First of all, I don't think Jimmy Hoffa's dead. And why in the bloody hell would you ask me?"

"What, you think Jimmy Hoffa has been living in hiding all these years?" Arthur shook his head. "Nevermind. Who else would I ask? You're Eames' best friend"

"I am, aren't I? Really, you two are quite sad. You need to get out more." Yusuf smirked to himself.

"Whatever. I really need help. I don't want to get him clothes, because we obviously don't have the same taste." Arthur frowned down at the bag he was labeling. "I don't want to get him something and make him think I don't know him at all. It could be a deal breaker, Yusuf."

"Oh my days, Arthur. You've been together for three months. It's not quite that serious."

"No wonder you're single." Arthur mumbled, finally giving up on the subject.

***

A month or so later, Yusuf was woken up at 2am by a relentless banging on his back door. He stumbled out of bed to find Eames standing on his stoop, ruffled, and wearing two different shoes. He had a bag over his shoulder and was clutching a pillow, a confused expression painted across his face.

"Arthur kicked me out." He said, with the air of a man who hadn't quite caught up to the situation.

Yusuf pulled the door wider, rubbing his eyes, and waited for Eames to drop heavily on his sagging couch. He went to the kitchen and collected two bottles of Tusker; he imagined he wouldn't be returning to bed any time soon.

He handed the bottle to Eames and sat down next to him, taking a sip of his own drink.

"So, Arthur kicked you out? Of your own house?" He smirked around his bottle.

"Yes! I have no bloody idea either, mate!" Eames angrily pushed Yusuf's cat off the coffee table, and propped up his now bare feet in its place.

"Hey now, don't take it out on Mr. Snugglepants." Yusuf picked up the offended cat and put it in his lap, petting it apologetically.

"Right. Erm...sorry, Mr. Snugglepants." Eames rolled his eyes.

"I'm starting to think that Arthur has a point."

"Oi! You're my friend. You're supposed to be on my side." Eames glared at him, offended.

"Okay. But really, Arthur doesn't come over in the middle of the night and be rude to my cats. Also, he brought me a lovely set of tea cups the other day. The exact ones I'd seen in the shop, and he remembered. "

Eames blinked at him.

"Just exactly how much time have you and Arthur been spending together?" 

"Enough. What exactly are we supposed to do while you're off gambling or what not?" Yusuf sniffed.

"You're _my_ mate. Arthur can't have you." Eames grumbled. "Especially since he's being a proper twat."

"Alright, tell me what happened." Yusuf could feel a very intense headache coming on.

"I told you, I don't know! He just went mad for no reason." Eames visibly pouted as he sunk lower into the couch, folding his arms across his chest like a grumpy child.

"Okay." Yusuf breathed out, attempting to be patient. "Tell me _exactly_ what happened. Maybe I can make sense of it for you."

"Erm...well, I got in late. But that's not new; he's never been upset about that before. "

Yusuf made an impatient, _get on with it_ , gesture.

"He knows I'm a free spirit. My wings can't be clipped, Yusuf."

Yusuf was actually very proud of himself for not rolling his eyes at that. He really deserved a medal at this point. A big one...made of real gold, none of that gold plated nonsense. 

"So anyway, everything was normal; we'd retired to the bedroom and he was happy enough to be there. We were getting down to business, I was just about to blow his mind, as usual, and he asked me where I'd been when I could've been in bed with him all night."

Yusuf nodded and pet his cat, wondering if Eames would notice if he closed his eyes and dozed for a bit.

"So I told him that I'd met Ferdinand at the illegal dice game, and we'd gone out for a few drinks afterwards."

Yusuf stared at Eames, utterly aghast. "Are you fucking taking the piss, Eames?"

"Um...that's basically what Arthur said. Except you know...in American. 'Are you fucking kidding me, Eames?'" Eames did a dead on impression of Arthur's flat accent.

"You're a bloody idiot."

"What?! Why?" Eames sat up straight, his brow creased in total confusion. 

"You went out until all hours with Ferdinand...your ex...and didn't tell Arthur? That's what happened?" Yusuf said slowly as though talking to a particularly slow child.

"Yeah. I always go out drinking with my mates. He doesn't care when I go out with you all night!" 

"Well, to be fair, I've never had my cock in your mouth."

"That's disgusting, Yusuf."

"Hey. I'll have you know that Arthur says I am a very attractive bloke; I have the whole bear thing going on and a very lovely accent. 'Lovely,' those were his exact words."

Eames narrowed his eyes.

"I don't think you and Arthur should hang out alone any more."

"Nonsense. He's the best wing man I've ever had. And he doesn't try and hit on the woman I'm talking to. Unlike some people."

Eames snorted, seemingly impressed with his own arseholery, and then sighed, sitting back into the couch again.

"He told me to sleep on the couch. And when I reminded him of how very uncomfortable the poncy couch he purchased is, he told me to go sleep with Ferdinand. Why would I do that? He snores something dreadful."

Yusuf pinched his nose and inhaled deeply. "Tell me you didn't say that to him. Please."

"Of course I did, and then he threw this pillow at me and slammed the door in my face." He held up the pillow he'd been clutching since he walked in. "But it's his loss, I took the pillow with me and it's his. I can tell because it smells like his pomade. "

"Oh yeah, you definitely showed him." Yusuf finally gave in to the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yes, I did." Eames tucked the pillow under his chin and wrapped his arms around it. He must've thought that Yusuf was some kind of an idiot and that he hadn't noticed him sniffing it sporadically.

"Look. Let's talk about this in the morning. I'd like to sleep at some point. And I want you to think very hard about why Arthur might be upset."

"I already told you I have no idea."

"Well, be that as it may, just take the night and think about it. And do not be rude to Mr. Snugglepants, this is his home. You are a guest."

And with that, Yusuf returned to his bedroom, still shaking his head in disbelief at his friend's obliviousness.

***

The next morning, Eames was already up cooking eggs and sausages when Yusuf stumbled into the kitchen. 

"I'm sorry for waking you up, mate."

He placed a plate in front of Yusuf, who doused it all with vinegary hot sauce and began to tuck in. Eames stood near his chair chewing his lip thoughtfully.

"Yusuf? Do you think that Arthur was mad at me because he was jealous?" 

"Well, aren't you clever?" Yusuf mumbled around a mouthful of eggs.

"But...he doesn't have any reason to be jealous. It's all him for me now. I'd never leave him or cheat on him. Why would he think that?"

Yusuf swallowed and took a sip of Eames' coffee, since the wanker hadn't offered him any.

"Have you told Arthur that?"

By the way Eames' eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, Yusuf surmised that in fact, no, he hadn't.

"Go home, Eames. Talk to Arthur. Try really, _really_ , hard not to be a knob. "

Eames nodded and put his odd shoes back on, scooping up his bag and pillow.

"Thanks, mate."

"Ta. Remind Arthur that we have a lunch date. I'll be around to get him around 1." Yusuf waved goodbye with his fork and smirked when Eames glared at him, but nodded as though he knew it was no use arguing.

***

Yusuf hummed quietly as he let himself into Eames' house...or he guessed it was Eames and Arthur's house now. They'd need a fun nickname, like Brangelina. Eamthur? Armes? He'd have to give it some serious thought.

He called out a hello as he walked in, but received no reply. There was no one in the kitchen or bathroom, so he headed back toward the bedroom. Arthur didn't do so well in the heat of Mombasa, and he took a lot of naps in front of Eames' rattling air conditioner in the middle of the day. Before he knew Arthur he never would have imagined the man taking bloody naps or wearing ratty t-shirts to sleep in.

He knocked on the door and heard a muffled _'..come in...'_

He pushed the door open and at first, he couldn't quite figure out what he was seeing. There was a lot of pale skin on display, and bendy legs sticking out in all directions. Maybe he processed an elbow, and the sound of wet skin smacking together. By the time he realized that he was witnessing his new best friend pounding into his old best friend, with a concentration that was impressive, he'd already been spotted.

"Yusuf! Get the fuck out! I said 'don't come in'!" Arthur yelled, but didn't stop moving, his ass muscles flexing with the effort.

"Oh my days, Arthur you are flexible!" Yusuf couldn't bring himself to shut the door, he was frozen with one foot in the room and his hand gripping tightly on the doorknob. He could feel himself turning red, but he was unable to keep his mouth shut. "I see you made up. Cheers."

Eames gasped out a laugh. "Yes, ta Yusuf. Give us a moment will you?"

Yusuf wasn't sure how Eames could formulate complete sentences in between all the moaning, but he finally got a hold of himself and shut the door with a slam. He hollered through the door.

"Sorry! Take your time! Don't mind me!"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Yusuf!" Arthur yelled back.

***

Later, Arthur lay on top of Eames, still panting faintly, his ears still red from the exertion or embarrassment; Eames wasn't quite sure.

"We really need to get Yusuf a girlfriend." Arthur sat up a little to look at Eames.

"Yeah, or at least get him laid." Eames laughed.

"Yeah, something. It's kind of sad that his two gay best friends are the closest to a lady friend he has." Arthur laughed with Eames.

"Right. Next order of business...get Yusuf someone besides us to hang out with. Maybe then he won't feel compelled to watch us have sex."

Arthur groaned and buried his face in Eames' chest. 

“Although, we _are_ gorgeous...I can see why he'd want to. Even I want to. Maybe we should get a mirror on the ceiling...” he trailed off, happily ignoring Arthur's muffled protest.

Eames smiled and ran a hand through Arthur's curls as they drifted sleepily, the rattling of the air conditioner lulling them into a nap in the middle of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> My [ tumblr ](http://sweetbutterbliss.tumblr.com/)


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